


Siren

by wabbitseason



Category: Remember WENN
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-12
Updated: 2002-04-12
Packaged: 2019-01-03 19:44:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12153528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wabbitseason/pseuds/wabbitseason
Summary: The night Jeffrey left for London in "A New Actor", Hilary is comforted by the sounds of the radio... and a unlikely person at WENN.





	Siren

The halls of WENN stood empty, its studios darkened and its switchboard silent. The station had finished broadcasting for the night. Without Eugenia's late show, WENN had returned to its normal routine, closing down at midnight. The staff had gratefully grabbed their coats, disappearing into the dreary Pittsburgh twilight. All but one.

Hilary Booth had stayed behind in the Green Room, sitting on the sofa, her head resting forlornly on her hand. Although her hair and makeup had barely even been mussed in the day's adventures, Hilary seemed different than the former Broadway star who regarded WENN as her private domain. The diva had lost her leading man... again. Hilary's irrational side simply could not accept the fact that Jeffrey had left for London to "finish what he started."

 _If he isn't finished by a Nazi bomb_ , Hilary finished sadly. She had nearly lost him once. Could this time be the final curtain?

Out of some unfathomable need, Hilary leaned over from the sofa to switch on the radio. Perhaps she hoped to find some comfort in the large box of dreams. For all her complaints about being on radio in Pittsburgh, she secretly enjoyed playing so many different roles. Most actresses only received one defining role in their lifetimes. She received new ones every week from Shakespeare to potboilers.

The radio flickered to life, filling the darkened room with swinging upbeat music, led by a triumphant trumpet solo. Inexplicably the dance music made Hilary think of Jeffrey. They had always enjoyed dancing together. Their bickering was forgotten in the moment. 

Hilary was not usually prone to daydreams. But in her mind's eye, Hilary could easily imagine herself safely in her wayward husband's arms, far away from Nazi bombs and sleepless nights. She could see that memorable Christmas when they danced together while Gloria Redmond sang. She relaxed back against the sofa, her well-heeled toe tapping in time with the big band rhythms.

When the song finished, the announcer said. "And that was Martin Telyn and his Orchestra with their latest hit, 'Dance Till Dawn', which continues to gain popularity throughout Great Britain."

Hilary sat up straighter on the sofa. She must still be daydreaming if she's listening to a BBC broadcast.

"And now," the British announcer said, "to end our morning broadcast, the BBC brings you a special broadcast requested by many of our listeners recorded at last night's Airmen's Ball by the English siren, Katherine Lindsey."

Thunderous applause greeted the English singer, surprising Hilary. But Hilary was more familiar with the stars of Broadway than of British recording. This singer must be very popular to receive such a response.

A low female voice with a tempered British accent spoke into the microphone. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, I am especially honored to perform for you tonight." Katherine Lindsey continued after the burst of applause died down. "I would like to sing a special song for you tonight. The lyrics sum up how I felt when my own husband joined his squadron last year." The singer finished softly, her voice wavering. "So wherever you are tonight, Andrew, goodnight my love."

The orchestra swung into the slow love ballad, led by a mournful clarinet. Then the horns joined the other musical instruments, fueling the arrangement.

The music swept Hilary off to the crowded ballroom of the Airmen's Ball, surrounded by uniformed officers. Dressed in the black satin slip dress from "Magic Time", Hilary seemed like one of many gowned escorts nestled safely, if ever so briefly, in their love's embrace.

"May I have this dance, Mrs. Singer?" Hilary turned around to see Jeffrey standing immaculately dressed in a black tuxedo. He held out his hand, inviting Hilary into his arms.

Hilary took his hand. "Oh, Mr. Singer, you know I'm always yours for a song," she smiled as they joined the other couples on the dance floor.

On the stage, Katherine Lindsey joined the accompaniment with her silken contralto, singing of tearful goodbyes and hopeful reunions.

_"Good night, my love, the tired old moon is descending._  
Good night, my love, my moment with you is now ending.  
It was so heavenly, holding you close to me.  
It will be heavenly to hold you again in a dream."** 

"Why did you have to go, Jeff?" Hilary asked. "Why did it have to be *you*? Of all the radio people, why couldn't it be..." _Someone else's husband_ , she finished grimly.

"It had to be me, Hilary," Jeff said. "I had to finish my work at the BBC. I promised Victor." He explained. "Victor couldn't do it alone, Hilary. He just didn't have the spark anymore. He had the business acumen, but he didn't have the same perspective anymore."

And then suddenly in the middle of the song, the sirens started. Couples gripped each other. Even the band seemed to lose its momentary focus, although the singer showed steely English nerve by continuing, almost accappella at one point. A German blitz was imminent.

"Hilary, you have to go!" Jeffrey urged her.

She shouted, reaching for his hand. "Jeffrey, no!"

"Hilary, Hilary, wake up!" The actress opened her eyes. Hilary had dozed off on the sofa, her head against the cushions. Gertie sat by her side, concern crossing her face. The radio now only played static. 

"Gertie, what happen..." Hilary asked, blinking at the receptionist. "And what are you doing here so late?" 

"I forgot I changed jackets this afternoon," Gertie explained. "I was almost down the block when I realized I left my keys in the pocket." She asked, her brow creased with worry. "Are _you_ all right?"

"I'm fine," Hilary said. "I was... just listening to the radio. I must have fallen asleep."

Gertie glanced at the static filled radio. "The connection must have gone dead." Then she checked the dial. "This was still tuned to the BBC shortwave. After Jeffrey left, I must have forgot to switch it back to our regular programming."

"So I wasn't daydreaming," Hilary said aloud. But it was so vivid. 

"You were dreaming of Jeffrey," Gertie said, "of him not coming back." When the actress stared at the receptionist, Gertie smiled faintly. "I remember what it was like. I was a young bride once, too."

"You never mentioned that," Hilary said surprised.

"No one bothers to ask," Gertie reminded her. "People tend to forget you when you're stuck behind a switchboard." She sighed sadly. "He died in France during the first war."

"I'm so sorry," Hilary said. But that did make some sense. After one particular episode of "Jane Timmons, Registered Nurse," she remembered Gertie giving her a thorough chewing out for "not getting it right". Of course, Hilary had taken that insult personally, but it hadn't occurred that Gertie might also take those stories quite personally too.

"You should get some rest, Hilary," Gertie said finally. "Things will seem more manageable in the morning."

Hilary asked, as the receptionist stood up to leave. "Gertie, how do _you_ manage?"

"I close my eyes and remember him as he was," Gertie said simply. "He's still there, a little faded with time, but still a part of me." She added. "He'll come back, Hilary."

When she finally went home to her place, Hilary tried fitfully to sleep. She tried to dream of Jeffrey. But she could still only hear the sirens ringing in her head. And her Jeffrey tantalizingly out of reach.

**Author's Note:**

> Because of the nature of the story and the time zone differences, I played a *little* fast and loose with the BBC radio schedule. Even if they played dance band music in the morning, they probably only played instrumentals. 
> 
> "Goodnight my love" was written by Mack Gordon and Harry Revel. Benny Goodman and his orchestra recorded a version in 1936 originally featuring a young Ella Fitzgerald. This was one of only three songs they recorded together. Due to contractual reasons, the sides were pulled soon after their original release, but this author always thought it made a great farewell song.


End file.
